Where are the mice when I need them?

Today my husband and son are off on a long bike ride together. It's much needed father and son time but they keep sending me pictures of views along the way. It looks so nice, peaceful and relaxing, despite the work required for the ride. The girl who lives with us (takes care of the kids while my husband and I are in school) is laying outside in the hot Georgia sun, working on her tan. It must be nice to leave everything in this household up to me. While they are enjoying the weather, I'm washing and folding TONS of laundry, taking care of the other 4 kids, made everyone breakfast and lunch, then cleaned up those messes, getting ready to start dinner, etc. I feel like Cinderella when she got the invitation to the ball. She was so excited and then her evil stepmother and stepsisters gave her tons of chores to do with an 'understanding' that if she got it all done, she could go to the Ball as well. Cinderella knew it'd never get done and knew her time wasn't coming. She'd never get to go and her "me" time and enjoy the Ball. Then the mice came along. They helped her prepare a beautiful dress (although her sisters later destroyed it). They helped her in her work. Where are the mice when I need them? When will my time come to go out and just blow off an entire day? Why does it seem that the world goes on for everyone, except a mom. Sure, when I mention this to DH, he'll tell me to go and have some time alone. About the time I get to Starbucks to enjoy a White Chocolate Mocha with an extra shot of espresso, he'll call to ask where the diapers are. Shortly after that he'll call and say that one of the kids is poopy. Before long, my whole time alone is filled with all the problems of the day, followed by a phone call asking when I'll be home cause the kids are hungry. The world would have stopped for Wicked Stepmother and Stepsisters if it wasn't for Cinderella. 'It's the end of the world as they knew it' when she stood up and took time for herself. Life would completely have fallen apart. Thank goodness the mice helped her out and she was able to have that moment at the Ball. Her life changed when she was given that few minutes to herself. It's something that we all need. We all need to find that time alone and be refreshed. We all need time where we aren't bothered with the hassles of life and can just focus on ourselves. As moms, we give and give and give to everyone else and have little left over for us. I want to work out, lay in the sun, become the woman I want to. I want to lose weight, dress nice, be the cute girl that my husband fell in love with. I want to captivate him, entice him, draw him in in ways I haven't done since I was 18. Instead, my boobs have fallen, my stretchmarks are ever present, my hair is a mess, there are spots on my shirt. I want to be like my babysitter laying out in the sun, going on her daily runs, just to keep up her girlish figure. I want to go to the library like she did yesterday, just to get away. I want to have girlfriends to just go and have dinner with. But life is here and my life is a different reality. Someday, my mice may come and my Fairy Godmother may wave her magic wand and my husband will be the Prince Charming that swept Cinderella off her feet. For now, I'll just sit and look at my pumpkin and dream of the day it's a beautiful carraige. My life is good. My kids are amazing. My husband really is adoring. My home is nice and my bills are paid. What more can a girl REALLY ask for? It's not always the fairytale that we dream it to be, but it's always good to know that we really are a princess at the core. Keep dreaming of the day your chariot comes. Keep dreaming of the day you waltz with your prince. Keep dreaming of the day your life becomes what you always dreamed it would be. It'll come....if you just keep believing.

Know your rights RE: vaccinations

Did you know that while all states say it is mandatory to have your child immunized, that it really isn't mandatory? Did you know that all 50 states have waivers of some form or another? This is something that school systems don't let you know when you go in to register your child.